Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

But tonight, there’s no shortage of topics and no fear of some forced, humorless conversation. These quiet reprieves feel more like intermissions. As if we’re performing for each other. Taking turns being the entertainment and the entertained. Keeping each other laughing. Keeping each other guessing. It’s fun, and part of me wishes we had more time before Sarah and Caleb decide to kick everyone out for the night.

She reads too much, and it’s addled her brain.

I, like most women my age, have learned to hate myself just enough to appease others. If you’re too fond of how you look, you’re told you’ll be unlikeable. Labeled as self-involved, egotistical, or stuck-up. But it’s purposeful—pitting us against one another. Consumerism demands we remain unsatisfied with our appearance. If we all liked ourselves, dozens of industries would crumble like Babylon. We have to want a solution to whatever or however many problems plague us in order to keep those factories running. To keep money in men’s pockets.

“It’s a bit of a Mamma Mia situation, I’m afraid,” I answer. “Here we go again,”

She’s wearing leggings and a cute, oversized sweater with the word Velaris written across it. I think that’s from a favorite book of hers, but if I ask, we’ll never get out of here on time.

“I’ve seen what you read on your Kindle. You’re in no place to judge.”

“There was this guy…Jack.” “Hate him already,”

“Yeah, I think I would. I know the timing isn’t exactly ideal, but if you lined up every other person in the world who I could’ve had a baby with, I’d choose you again. You’re going to be a fantastic mom, Win.”

It’s so much easier to communicate insecurities when you don’t need to communicate them at all. Isn’t that all we ever want? To be seen and heard? Validated, even when we’re not able to ask for it.

“I’d do it all over again to be at that party,” he says. “To meet you. To get Gus.”

“I can’t do it again. I can’t talk to him. I can’t put my heart on another platter and expect a different result.”

“You’re perfect, Win,” Bo says, as easily as breathing. “Of course I’d want them to have every part of you.”

You have her same…care. I can tell life has not been easy or always kind to you, but you haven’t let it turn you hard. Not like a stone. You became like water. You

Let me in, I want to say amidst the silence. Love me. Trust me. I won’t let you down. I swear it.

“I love you, Win. I love you so much it makes me feel like I’ve hated everything else in my life up until now. Nothing compares to what I feel for you. Not even close.”

You want it, I want it. What’s the big deal?”

“You are my soul’s purpose, Win. To know you, to love you, to build a family with you, to spend every day taking care of you, to watch you shine and get all the good things you deserve out of this life.”